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Bad Debt
Bad Debt
Bad Debt
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Bad Debt

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Natalie Dvorak Mysteries #6

The body of a young man found in a wrecked car was dead before the crash. Detective-Sergeant Natalie Dvorak of the Vermont State Police investigates the murder with the help of her niece Melanie whose friend Jenny lent the dead man money. Was his debt to Jenny related to the killing? As Natalie interviews the victim’s associates, she begins to unravel two criminal conspiracies in her own backyard. She soon has a list of suspects, all of whom have secrets. But which of them has a motive that could have led to murder?

LanguageEnglish
Release dateAug 23, 2015
ISBN9781311085481
Bad Debt
Author

Geoffrey A. Feller

I was born fifty-seven years ago in the Bible belt but grew up in a Massachusetts college town. I am married and my wife and I have moved frequently since we met. We've lived in Minnesota, Massachusetts, and New Mexico, as well as a brief residency in Berlin, Germany. I have worked peripherally in health care, banking, and insurance. In addition to writing, I have done a bit of amateur acting and comedy performances. I am afraid of heights but public speaking doesn't scare me. My wife and I live in Albuquerque with our chihuahua.

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    Bad Debt - Geoffrey A. Feller

    BAD

    DEBT

    by Geoffrey A. Feller

    Smashwords Edition

    Copyright 2015 by Geoffrey A. Feller

    CHAPTER ONE

    HAMSTER’S WHEEL

    Melanie Dvorak was in a bad mood as she reached the intersection of Massachusetts Avenue and Newbury Street, walking with a determined pace to get away from the scene of her disappointment. It was the second Tuesday in March and snow was falling, adding to her annoyance.  Late season snowstorms in New England were a matter of winter out staying its welcome; almost everyone felt more than ready for spring to begin and Melanie was no exception.  She was anxious to get back home, across the Charles River to Cambridge, where she could warm up by the radiator near her bed and figure out another way to get what hadn’t been available at Newbury Comics.  

    Melanie was wearing a black wool coat over a red sweater along with jeans and scuffed work boots.  Her short, dyed hair was covered by a black beret.  She was about to duck inside the Auditorium Green Line subway station when she heard a squeal of brakes and two separate tones of car horns honking. Melanie stopped outside the station doors to look at the source of the noise, not caring that other bustling citizens were forced to dodge her where she stood, even though Melanie was a small woman.  

    Her cursory glance across Mass-Ave took in a familiar figure at the dark and grimy bus shelter, a long waiting area that ran up to the bridge over the turnpike. Melanie wasn’t sure at first but soon recognized the young woman from school although she hadn’t seen her since the semester before last. The heavy, two-way traffic made it impossible to shout over the street and be heard so Melanie backtracked to the crosswalk at Newbury Street.

    The girl Melanie wanted meet was wearing only a sweater and a pair of slacks, probably not warm enough for the temperature despite the chubby, rotund body concealed under the clothes. There was a brown leather pocketbook hanging from her left shoulder. The face Melanie had recognized was round and was framed by long, brown hair. Recognition alone might not have caused Melanie to delay her trip home. Finding the girl attractive would make Melanie stop and look for a moment. But what drew her to the crosswalk was that she’d noticed the anxious-eyed girl was begging indifferent people for money; Melanie was dismayed at the notion that her acquaintance might need help.

    Jenny! she called out after reaching the bus shelter. Jenny Sage!

    Jenny made a half turn to her left so she could face Melanie. The look of distress was replaced by momentary confusion before she smiled slightly.

    M-Melanie?

    Yes, Melanie. You remember me, right?

    Sure, Jenny said as Melanie stood directly in front of her, looking up into the girl’s still-frightened eyes.

    I saw you from across the street, Melanie explained. You, um, looked like you’re in some kind of trouble.

    Jenny swallowed but didn’t reply.

    Well, are you in trouble? Can I help?

    Jenny’s chin trembled and tears began to flow onto her cheeks.

    Melanie hugged Jenny on impulse and could feel the abundant flesh shivering whether from the cold or fear or both. Melanie’s urge to defend a girl in crisis was unstoppable.

    Come home with me, Melanie whispered into Jenny’s ear. Get warm at least.

    Okay, Jenny said with a squeak in her voice.

    Melanie led Jenny by the hand back to the crosswalk. She didn’t say anything else until they had gone inside the subway station.

    You don’t have to tell me anything, Melanie said as they started down the stairway to the mezzanine level where the farebooths and turnstiles were located. If you’re not ready, it’s all right.

    Thanks, Jenny said, her voice barely audible to Melanie.

    Melanie dug into her coat pocket as they reached the turnstiles.

    Sorry I don’t have the fare, Jenny said as Melanie gave her a token. Nobody would give me the measly fifty cents for a bus ride.

    Just as well they didn’t, Melanie remarked, pushing her way through the rotating bars, or I wouldn’t have seen you. Were you headed to the South End? Is that where you live now?

    When Jenny didn’t reply, Melanie looked back to make sure the girl was still there. She was, but only stared back fearfully. Melanie pulled at Jenny’s hand again, leading her to the staircase to the inbound streetcar platform.

    So I’ll tell you about what I was doing there, okay? she said after bringing Jenny to a stop among other people waiting to ride towards the Common. I mean it’s just by chance. I was looking for an EP, a new one by that group Hamster’s Wheel. Have you heard of them?

    Jenny shook her head.

    Well, whatever. They’re a local hardcore band like Classic Ruins… You aren’t into hardcore, are you?

    Jenny shook her head again.

    I won’t hold that against you, Melanie said with a smile; she pulled off her beret to show off a head of short, spiked, purple hair.

    Jenny smiled back.

    My hair wasn’t like this the last time you saw it, Melanie said with a nod. "Well, I don’t usually come to Newbury Comics on Newbury Street…"

    She was interrupted by the clanging bell from a flat-faced Green Line streetcar that was rumbling up the track from the tunnel. The rollsign above the windshield reported its destination was North Station, past the transfer point they needed. The green and white doors opposite the driver slid open and Melanie pulled Jenny up the steps ahead of the small crowd behind them, dodging some exiting passengers at the same time. Melanie took an aisle seat as if to guard the girl. After the doors slammed shut and the car started to move along the tracks towards the next tunnel segment, Melanie went on with her story.

    "So I usually go the Newbury Comics in Harvard Square. I only came all the way over here because some idiot at the other location said the EP was available at Newbury Street. Guess what? It wasn’t here after all! They say I can try Strawberries Records at Downtown Crossing, which is bullshit ’cause I know Hamster’s Wheel can’t be found at Strawberries! I used to go to Newbury Comics on Newbury when this tall, thin blond chick worked there; I had this crush on her and I kept asking that babe to reach records on the high shelves for me. Then she quit and I never went there again. Until now when I shouldn’t have bothered, except for seeing you."

    Melanie stopped speaking, embarrassed by her own babbling.

    Thanks for helping me, Jenny said, clutching Melanie’s hand.

    Melanie resisted an urge to kiss Jenny on the cheek.

    Did you transfer to another school? Melanie asked as the streetcar slowed to a stop at the next station under Copley Square. I haven’t seen you at Radcliffe in a long time.

    I dropped out, Jenny replied. I’m not in school right now.

    Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Why’d you drop out?

    I was a little overwhelmed by things.

    Melanie waited for Jenny to elaborate and when she didn’t, decided not to press the question. The streetcar rolled on ahead towards Arlington Station.

    I’m graduating this spring, Melanie said.

    Jenny nodded.

    All of a sudden, Melanie remembered something she had in common with Jenny.

    Hey, you’re from Vermont, aren’t you?

    Yeah.

    But you still live in Boston?

    I live in my uncle’s condo on Comm-Ave., Jenny said. He’s out of the country so I moved into his place, rent-free, so he can have me look after things. Better than living with my parents, anyway.

    Is that where you were coming from when I saw you?

    Jenny nodded.

    Why’d you go out without a coat?

    Jenny shuddered and tried to choke down a sob.

    Okay, okay, okay, Melanie said. Later, when you’re ready.

    After a transfer from the Green Line streetcar line for a ride on the Red Line subway at Park Street, Melanie led Jenny up to the surface at Central Square in Cambridge. For the last leg of their trip, Jenny finally got a bus ride for the several blocks over to Melanie’s apartment house.

    Melanie took Jenny inside the old, wood-framed building, then upstairs to the second floor. Her apartment was a studio unit with a galley kitchen and a small bathroom. Melanie’s bed, a queen-sized mattress on a metal frame with the head against the living room wall, was across from a set of windows with a view of the convenience store across the street.

    Melanie took off her coat and hung it on a wall hook by the entry door but said nothing.

    Here, she said, holding out her hand towards Jenny.

    What?

    Your bag; we can hang it here.

    Can I keep it with me for now?

    Why, is there something in it you want to show me?

    Jenny bit her lower lip and looked at the floorboards under her feet.

    Never mind, Melanie said. Want some tea or coffee?

    I’ll have whatever you want, Jenny murmured.

    Sit down in that reading chair by the radiator, Melanie said. It’s the closest thing to a warm hearth I can offer you.

    Jenny meekly complied, sitting on the seat cushion with her bag in her lap.

    Take anything in your coffee? I’ve got some half-and-half. No artificial sweetener but there’s some sugar.

    Half-and-half’s okay, Jenny said. I don’t need sweetener.

    I drink it black, myself. But sometimes I have guests.

    Where’s the bathroom?

    The door to your right on the other side of the bed.

    Melanie noticed that Jenny carried her bag into the bathroom. There had to be something in it that the girl hadn’t wanted to leave behind at her uncle’s condo.

    I hope you know you’re safe here, Melanie said when Jenny came back into the living room; the coffee machine had started to chug water through the filter.

    Yeah, Jenny said softly, smiling slightly.

    She sat back down in the reading chair, bag on her lap again.

    Melanie took a pair of coffee mugs down from a cabinet over the countertop.

    Stay the night if you need to, she offered.

    I wouldn’t want to be in your way.

    Don’t be silly.

    Melanie poured the coffee for both of them. She joined her guest in the living room, sitting on the end of the bed to face Jenny after handing her a mug.

    So what’s in that bag? Melanie asked in a casual voice.

    Jenny fidgeted and bit her lower lip.

    Drugs? Melanie asked. I’ve got an ounce of weed in the top drawer of my dresser. Look at my hair; you think I’m some uptight preppy?

    Okay, well, it’s my medication. I left school because I couldn’t deal with the stress. I take these pills to handle my stress.

    You took some just now, in the bathroom?

    Jenny nodded.

    Hey, if it helps, why not? You must’ve been stressed out being on the run like that.

    Wh-what makes you think I’m on the run? Jenny asked with her eyes wide open.

    Like I said, out with no coat on. Is somebody after you?

    I… I’m not sure. But you aren’t afraid to have a mental patient in your apartment?

    There’s nothing scary about you, Melanie replied. Besides, you’d be surprised how strong I am for my size.

    I remember that about you, Jenny said with a smile.

    You do?

    You were always so pretty, Melanie. I wish I had those eyes; they’re like violet, or something. You were always popular, right? Bet you still are.

    Is that a polite way of saying I’m easy?

    No, Jenny said, blushing slightly.

    Well, I am. Easy. So, uh, I think I noticed you at the bus stop because I always liked you. Had a little crush on you.

    Jenny’s blush deepened towards crimson.

    But you had that boyfriend back then. Josh, was that his name?

    Jenny’s blush faded as she shuddered and her eyes started to glisten.

    Yes… Josh…

    Oh, hey, Melanie said, reaching over with her left hand to place it on Jenny’s right knee. I didn’t mean to upset you. Did you guys break up?

    Jenny started crying loudly. Melanie carefully set aside Jenny’s coffee mug so that she could put her arms around her guest.

    Several hours later, in the dead of night, Melanie was awake and in the bathroom. She had attended to a full bladder and was now standing at the sink, her small hands resting on Jenny’s bag. Even with the bathroom door closed, Melanie could hear Jenny snoring from the living/bedroom.

    Those pills sure keep her sleeping, Melanie thought.

    She had deliberately made more noise than necessary going from bed to toilet, testing that assumption. Then Melanie had taken the bag from the night table after the old toilet’s water tank had finished its loud refill.

    Nervously, she reached inside the bag and felt around. Melanie’s fingers touched a change of underwear—lace panties and a silky D-cup bra like the one Melanie had so eagerly removed from Jenny’s chest—and she was distracted by the recent memory of giving that poor refugee some tender loving care. Jenny had been so upset when Josh’s name came up that there seemed to be no hope for seducing the deliciously chubby girl. Yet Jenny had collapsed into Melanie’s arms with what felt like eagerness.

    Melanie smiled at her own face in the mirror, grateful for the dark blue eyes common among the Dvorak family, the eyes Jenny had praised. And if Melanie had found Jenny’s soft curves exciting, Jenny had shown equal appreciation for Melanie’s compact, muscular figure, once put to use for high school gymnastics.

    Then Melanie exhaled and got back to work. Her fingers grasped a pill vial and she pulled it out into the light. Melanie didn’t recognize the name of the medication on the label but saw that it had been filled at the Phillips Pharmacy over by Massachusetts General Hospital. But the instructions said Jenny was to take as

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